Re: on Alan Sondheim's recent images
i s w holl y in strum ent al..
sei narikela-jala pana kari'
http://www.phaneronoemikon.org/images/Jennyhaniver.mov in the reefs, the frolic of the N-actual, the replication of sub-frames, the merging and destroying of frames, the frame made of frames which isn't a frame but a locus of framing as praxis, and the locus of praxis as a framing of the instrumental, in the reefs, the reefer on the bolt, the bolt of lightning in the meadow, the darkening of the subtext, the subtext as the body of public text, the private text is the locust frame enframing Jenny Haniver, the cutting and extracting, that reversal, selling a little monster doesnt seem like such a bad thing, extinct products and handicrafts, extinct practices, folklore, hierophany. Let us bow our heads and recall the name of Aksapada (that name, Eye-Foot), the Saintly Logician of the Nyaya. Let us raise our heads to the Sun, burn our faces off in praise. Let us look to Kanada, the Atom Eater who is associated to the Vaisesika system. He is the brother of Light to Lucretius, and the Anapythia to Aithypana, drink, drink cool drinks in hot sunshine and think of i's on the bottom of your feat.
Re: Hardly, nearly
waterspout arrangement dips peculiarly from touched to sounds, without a name these ponderous scalps, hardly a poached scalp lunar scalp acquiesence, pyrrhian scalp - draw nigh ostracise core banish, which blew aside article of clothing, speech communication of charity oh alternative deforms orotund massacres directionless, the prophetic bit lopping teetering collar, lest sybaritic, lest a light demise woodwind inching, harmonise meagre, garish continuation bisulcating dazzle (whet the) seethe-shriek - Original Message - From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.WVU.EDU Sent: Monday, September 11, 2006 9:50 PM Subject: Hardly, nearly Hardly, nearlyvagrant arrangement, peculiarly smelly names touched,furrowsdivert me permanently, flat smoke within purely sleeping sounds,mire,I finger the ponderous lunar moths, pyrrhic lyrics, wroughtbounteous body language, impossible simplicity,poachedspacious acquiescence without a name, winter machine alone,draw nigh,hardly within, hardly without, hardly a number,scalphardly momentarily alone, hardly lunar, cornhardly breaking out of the sky, hardly the inkling of a kiss,waterspouthardly only a face, hardly milk, nearly absorption,taupenearly different, nearly often, nearly plain, nearly departed, cassianearly resembling black, until no pressure is in perilI shun the lunar sky, I shun the substance of paste in my face, I blew away, astonishing garb, charm of charity, instead of under, instead of verbal, bred whole, instead of rounds, instead of points, part of efficacy, scarce proportion under me, instead of being dry, bowelsaccuracy inching on, instead of a frequent rainy conflict, I slept colossal fur afloat breaks off embodiments within wind-loud lines,tottering, the memory of sky space disguising the plausibility of apprehension, teetering,feel the revelatory sting lopping off no particular manuscript,slipperyparadox of syntax coming out of coercion, voluptuary doubt,snookered voluptuary voice, I contrived the death wood, smelly disposition,gutter darkeningedge of bricks, dream crushed break in the blue hereafter,scuff,my smelly attainments swarm above the linearity of hollow animosities, smitten I swarm, my tilted lines swarm, impetuosity swarms,privily,the redundance of bluest impetuosity swarms, who whetthe hollow wave very round, still less arch above seamless vice-versa breaking off, seamless tears, purgelamentable billowing corpses, daubs of lucrative revulsion, sorerevelatory debunking, dazzlement of magnetic beads round the farce of silence, suffocated slices of circles disguising jarring lips of cloven light shades, voice disinheritance, I face my loud scowling, jarring charity omitting the submissiveness of contradictory necks, lesser lights sedulously inadequatetreacherously pining errata, death shades divinest phosphorus,I slept on within. Within me. Scribbled execration touched blue,no lip pressure, white goldenrod September tail-bone, resuscitated minx frolicking, pale, beautiful, broken daubsof verbal humiliations, contradicting scowling whipcords,linchpin watchword, seamless slope, seamless quiescence --Bob BrueckLafter parts of Jeff Harrison's ACCURACY and POSTMORTEM SERIES
Re: god object anti pattern player tunes
meat yarn putaine these bytes pendant on the tranquille ovuler sequin caviar dam break tehom, bloodletting - Original Message - From: D^Vid D^Vizio To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.WVU.EDU Sent: Tuesday, September 12, 2006 8:26 AM Subject: god object anti pattern player tunes 18:09 9/11/06 1222 bytesgod object ~ tefib ego tyido Gogo tefib egoantipattern ~ nutty elno nollor dues nutloy itnorplayer tunesplayer tunes ~ omit yawnd^Vizio__Do You Yahoo!?Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com
Re: on Alan Sondheim's recent images
Thanks Charles, That was a pleasurable read with my coffee this morning - it is also refreshing to observe someone else's take on some of Alan's work. marc In the Genjo Koan of 1233, translated as something like actualizing the fundamental point, Eihei Dogen explains that for Buddhism here is the place, here the way unfolds, but immediately adds that the boundary of realization is not distinct. The space and time of practice are already inhabited, are already demarcations within our lifeworld. I see this realization of the indistinct (smear, the Pale) in Alan Sondheim’s recent visual work. These images and videos of the last three or four months, working with complex laser scanning and motion capture technologies, concern embedding spaces modeled and presented on screen. The presentation is beautiful, the images are stunning. I easily slip into seeing them as visual abstractions, as familiar parts of an artistic discourse. I slip into seeing them as images to be looked at. Sondheim’s writings become important here: some part of these images remain invisible and only played out in the medium of words. He calls the images figures (this or that figure or figures), emphasizing the split or disparity between the phenomenology of sight or vision and the presentaiton of the images on screen. The partial and particulate quality of these image/figures is specific to their digitality (the particular as the digital in all images). Insofar as they are visible and in t! h! e visible, these images are already ruptured, already broken of their digitality. The digital image pictures absence; this is its qualification as an image. The description of these images in relation to a non-existent embedding space is paradoxical first of all in the simultaneous invisibility and ubiquity of this space. This space would in no way be susceptible to a kind of philiosophical de-layering; no analysis will logically reveal this embedding. Sondheim describes the invisible space as less than a frame, paregon, peripheral. Less than implies that these other notions are too much, that they already assume too much structure and cultural apparatus. The sequence of terms * frame, pareregon, peripheral * quote the art historical discourse of the ornamental and the philosophical discourse of the supplementary. These concepts deal with the primordial technological presumption of a propping up of the visible by a hidden grid of structures and relations. One could even collapse the sequence into the Heideggerian gestell as a reasonable master term. The gestell enframes the visible and in this creates potential and ! d! ynamics, energizing what is seen (in terms of the classical notion of energia or pictorial energy). The ancient role of the gestell within our notion of technology and technique is the relation of a more primal and productive space to visible or represented space. The ornament or frame is always something. When Sondheim speaks of invisible space as less than the parergon, this must be understood as a refusal of the economy of the frame and its placing in cultural production (and the production of culture). The gestell is productive, a machine of cultural prudction. By contrast, these images are quiescent, lacking in energy. To see an image requires some energetics, some energia, but these images are not seen - they are themselves seeing (or scanning) of spaces we inhabit. What gets shown is the living-through or inhabitation of these spaces. Rather than the gestell, the comparison is the invisible punctum caecum described by Merleau-Ponty, a blind spot within consciousness that enables rather than excludes the invisible within the visible. It is not seen in itself, but causes us to see the rest. The image does not give access to another space but is there in the embedding space, a space already here across the visible like a laminate. Dogon writes: Each reflection, however long or short its duration, manifests the vastness of the dewdrop, and realizes the limitlessness of the moonlight in the sky -- Furtherfield - http://www.furtherfield.org HTTP - http://www.http.uk.net Node.London - http://www.nodel.org
Re: Hardly, nearly
Bardly, nearly
into, on,
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PUBERTY WINDOW DRESSING
PUBERTY WINDOW DRESSING certain knack of elaborate latin place-names junk-shop made purpose difficult to come by alphabet tablet alone pausing time pretty knock-knocked at the door innocent looking 10 yrs backwards family shakespeare quit the compound to stamp cuneiform on wedge of seagull granddaughter under gray cardigan feminine succession wore unseen moisture there http://stoneagetype.tk
Re: Physics News Update 792
One of Einsteins creations, which he called his Maschinchen, or little machine, sought to measure voltages at the level of 0.0005 volts. Das ess ein Ana Maschinen ~ rainbow omf nil re zoos 11:50 PST 9/13/06 760 bytes d^Vizio __ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com
nznl.com digest, Sep 07, 2006 - Sep 13, 2006
nznl.com digest Sep 07, 2006 - Sep 13, 2006Posts 1552 - 1558http://nznl.comrss feed://nznl.com/geert/nznl.xml1552. Sep 07, 2006MOULD FOR A COPY OF WHOS AFRAID OF RED YELLOW AND BLUE, 2010, PLASTER OF PARIS, CONSTRUCTION MATERIALSfireworks filehttp://nznl.com/index.php?dag=200609071553. Sep 08, 2006MOULD FOR A ROOM, 2010, PLASTER OF PARIS, CONSTRUCTION MATERIALSfireworks filehttp://nznl.com/index.php?dag=200609081554. Sep 09, 2006PRELIMINARY STUDY FOR THE SIMPLE STEP, 2010, PLYWOOD, LINOLEUMfireworks filehttp://nznl.com/index.php?dag=200609091555. Sep 10, 2006THIS WAY BROUWN (ONE STEP), 2010, ...http://nznl.com/index.php?dag=200609101556. Sep 11, 2006NOTES FOR PAPER ARCHITECT, 2010, PERFORMANCE FOR THE ISO 216 FORMATweb pagehttp://nznl.com/index.php?dag=200609111557. Sep 12, 2006MUSEUM GUARD, 2010, PERFORMANCE FOR NZNL.COM WORKER #7fireworks file web pagehttp://nznl.com/index.php?dag=200609121558. Sep 13, 2006STUDY FOR A TIME PIECE, 2010, _javascript_ TIME PIECEweb pagehttp://nznl.com/index.php?dag=20060913 Geert Dekkershttp://nznl.comhttp://nznl.nethttp://nznl.org
Autbahn zu Holle is Greek for Participation
chaste mountaintop is all the rage. inklings remain free in sudden direction towards the gulf between air and life. the Selective Service (your friend) proceeds into snow as deep as trendy restaurants. no one asks for rhymes in this cold, and the respect of dying out loud seems paler even than the dream of snow. are we resistant to change? I could ask that, thinking other veterans want a place to sit, before tragic chasms seem too perfect. Selective Service is a trust of people with dun-coloured papers to be signed, thru ages on slopes when time doesn't include all numbers. we remember exactly the numbers we could have, were the warmth of the valley publicly traded. no question fails the patience of Iran poised as Iraq. aren't Tibet and Nepal just pale imitations of each 0ther? dictation of starchy emblems to be worn on uniform Selective Service documentation isolates endeavours into corrals called mountaintops. it all cries for deference in the sound. looking a little chubby, each of us realizes in the breadth of our entry to proximate need. the wind sound, then, hovers on a charge trusted for years. if we could just... but then, what mapping wakes me now, as I stand alone on this top moment? a whine as red as trusting the soul for food. I think I had a day there, before the cold became more than ignorance of utter cranes in marshy night skies. a victim of vacation timeshares ran up to me, lodging complaint into my direct tv. as I rolled down the surface of what I understood as grace for a period,t remendous cold seemed liked the novel approach that I needed. I awaited a director to include freshets spelled like tea. I would drink the warm potion, fit caffeine into my system, and refine what I could refine. this strict district needs a run of luck. then: I reeled with messages from family members lost in their traits. I suppose this is just practice. then: I understood the passing of time into friends. I am glad that I am the love of the living. then: I examined an irregular heartbeat, not mine but familiar in the proceeds. after the trust of discussion, I came to the village for sure. my charge came with me. I thought of Yeti in a crimson loaner, while the dismay of mechanics involved a garage tempered in task management, and the old buggy gets aspirated. I will see Yeti yet, I vowed, pleased to see words in light. the invention of 4000 foot chasms seems excessive.
draft and david as thoreau Re: Autbahn zu Holle is Greek for Participation
hayfever saved me from the draft..now, now, ow, ouch, we use mercenaries... david this was written several years ago. What am I doing in Connecticut? Good question I am looking for wisdom and I do not want to move very far away from the United Nations Headquarters. However, before I get into all of that, I am a 63 years young (compared to old), male white American, Protestant... Categorically by census data, a WASP...but I am an early liberal, having worked with the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) in l953, a year before Brown vs. the Board of Education. I burnt my draft card during the summer of l953, because my draft board which was always very polite and patient with me wouldn't recognize that a pious Episcopalian could have conscience as committed as a quiet Quaker... (Thoreau taught me how to describe Civil Disobedience but he did not instruct me how to behave...) I was a bright little kid who almost always got the very best grades and I had heavy "schooling" from proper teachers who gave me little idea of what "education" should be, then I discovered Deep Springs College in California, a minuscule institution of higher education with only 25 students in a junior college program and I began really learning that I had some talents and I ought to be using them...but on what... So, one summer I worked in a mental hospital in Iowa to perhaps join the healing arts...that wasn't the right thing... Second summer, I went to British Columbia on an experiment for living among nations, with a French program included, and third summer, I went to CORE in Washington DC, to work on movie house integration, a decade before Martin Luther King's march on WDC... (DS had a three year program for two years of academics because we owned and ran a cattle ranch as part of the schooling...You should learn about DS, it is one of the most interesting experiments in American higher education...) l953-54, a year in Mexico with the American Friends Service Committee... Then, two years in Kansas City, at the U of KC which subsequently went public and became a part of the U of Missouri... I was "at home" because my father suffered an auto accident that subsequently proved fatal...(Jan 55)... BA from KC in May (or June) 1956... Summer at the University of Oregon with a Social Science Research Council Grant, avoiding hay fever and staying in school to avoid being drafted... I had re-accepted student deferment... Anyone 39 years young should not have to understand these things... That was a war before Viet Nam and then a brief, brief interlude of no major war... Then, the draft wanted me and I went to South Dakota to visit before going to England on a National Science Foundation Fellowship for graduate work in anthropology, at the London School of Economics... Well, while I was crossing the Rockies my guardian angel afflicted me with the worst case of hay fever I have ever “suffered.” And, the Draft proved me 4-F, physically unfit for military service... I celebrated with a chocolate milk shake... Ah, the world was some much kinder and gentler then, for those who were safe to start with... My childhood playmates in Sunnyside Washington were Japanese Americans and were locked up in concentration camps in l942, a year after we had moved to California., for my Dad to wear little crosses on his khaki collars, as a chaplain... That is about 17 zillion other stories... Back to my early adulthood...after London--or even before London, had I had the chance--I went to Harvard (or would have gone there) to do a doctorate in social anthropology... Pre Patrice Lumumba and Pre Fidel Castro, I was going to be an Africanist because that was the situ of "problems" for the second half of the 20th century... (I was old before I got young...now I am really about 26 in spirit) Well, I enjoyed Harvard, but I worked plenty hard... I had a marvelous fellowship from the Danforth Foundation, covered room, board, tuition, clothes, books, just about everything for modest needs at Harvard when tuition was only $1000 a year in grad school! I lived 9 or l0 months a year on an additional $1500... Even had time to cycle out to Walden... Then, that marvelous guardian angel protected me again and gave me a full, visiting professorship in the Faculty of Medicine of the University of El Salvador, l961-64, to work on exactly what I wanted to do...social and cultural factors of health...but ELS was in popping turmoil with a 3.7 percent growth rate in people and by dint of reality I became a founding member of the Salvadoran Demographic Association, 5 years before the US Government was bright enough to get into the pop market... Then, starting at the top, there was nothing to do but work downward...maybe be an asst prof somewhere and Harvard School of Public Health was even interested in me until they discovered that I am more an activist than scholar... They thought I was both because I gave them an excellent seminar
